


The little protecter

by CatLady86



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Cute Kids, Gen, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-02
Updated: 2017-11-02
Packaged: 2019-01-28 05:48:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12599576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CatLady86/pseuds/CatLady86
Summary: There are times when the Prince needs to protect his Shield, even if it isn't truly needed.





	The little protecter

**Author's Note:**

> Tis I, with another fill I'm bringing over. :D It was either this one or a sad fill, chose the cute one instead. On a side note, I suck at coming up with titles and summaries. D: 
> 
> https://ffxv-kinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/4113.html?thread=7314193#cmt7314193

Noctis was bored today, so he decided to do what he normally does when he gets like that; find someone to annoy into playing with him. His favorite target as of late was his Shield in training who would begrudgingly give in after a short while and swing him around by his arms or hold him over his head and run around so the Prince could pretend to be an airship. Despite the older boy being big and grumpy looking, he was a softie and gave into the younger boy’s demands and he was fun to hang with. So he sets off to hunt down the older boy, knowing him to always be at the Citadel during the day, asking whoever crosses his path if they saw Gladio. He’s eventually pointed in the right direction of where the other is and heads over to the training grounds where he comes across something that makes go into a panic. Gladio was pinned to the ground with scuffs and bruises on his body as the Marshal has his hand clamped down on the back of the boy’s head and a knee in his back. Gladio tries to struggle free only to be shoved back down roughly with a pained grunt and his arm twisted further behind his back making him wince. 

“You think you are good enough like this?” the Marshal hisses and slams the boy back down. “Utterly weak.”

“I’m not weak.” Gladio snarls back as he continues to try and fight the older man off.

Noctis’ blood begins to boil, little fists balled up tightly in anger. Who did this big jerk think he was being mean to his Shield, no one was allowed to pick on him; except for himself, and maybe Ignis. So the little Prince stalks over, puts his fists on his hips, and attempts to put on a _serious business_ face before telling the older man off.

“Cor Leonis, you quit picking on my friend right _NOW_!” he yells, adding a foot stomp to show he’s extra angry. “And that’s an order!”

The other two stop and stare at the Prince, one wearing his trademark blank face while the other looks bewildered with a tinge of embarrassment. Even those in attendance hide away and try to cackle at what is unfolding. 

“What?” Cor asks in his bored monotone.

“You heard me you big meanie! I, Noctis Lucis Caelum, order you to stop beating up Gladio and go pick on someone your own size you stupid dummy-wuss!”

Gladio drops his head back down to hide the grin and chuckle that slips through, even the usually stoic Marshal lets an amused look creep onto his face as he trembles while trying so hard not to crack up. But he regains his composure and allows Gladio to stand up before turning back to the hissy Prince.

“I assure you, your Highness, I wasn’t beating up Gladiolus. I was training him, just as he will begin to do with you soon.” 

The Prince’s eyes slit and he remains defiant. “Since when does training mean you sit your fat butt on another person’s back and shove their face in the dirty floor while saying rude things?” 

“When it requires the person on the ground to learn how to break free from an enemy's hold by using all their might and determination.”

“Hmph, alright.” Noctis snips and storms over to grab the older boy’s hand. “I’ll let you off this time. But if you be mean to him ever again, I’ll tell my daddy on you mister!”

With that the Prince drags his Shield away with an air of triumph, leaving Cor there rubbing his face as the others around begin to crack up loudly. He can hear a very distinct voice in the back of his head, screaming _‘KARMA, BITCH!’_ at him.


End file.
